


Incubation Period

by StBridget



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Jack's sick, so Mac takes care of him.





	Incubation Period

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> Based on the prompt "it’s largely considered impolite to infect your co-workers with whatever it is you’re incubating."
> 
> Two more dark fics (you know who you are ;) ) means two more pieces of fluff, so here's the first. Enjoy!

*ACCCCHOOO!* *SNIFFLE, SNIFFLE* *ACHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!* *COUGH, COUGH, COUGH*

Phoenix Foundation Director Matty Webber stopped mid-sentence to glare at her top team’s muscle man, Jack Dalton.  “Okay, that’s it.  I’ve had it.  Go home, Jack.”

“I’m fine,” Jack protested with another sneeze, followed by another sniffle.

“No, Jack,” Matty said, “you are most definitely not fine.  Just look at you.”

The other members of the team, Angus MacGyver, Riley Davis, and Wilt Bozer, looked at Jack.  He was huddled miserably on the couch, wearing his jacket with Mac’s leather jacket draped across his front.  His face was flushed, his forehead beaded with sweat, but chills occasionally wracked his body despite the two jackets he was huddled under.  His nose was red and drippy, and he drew an arm across it, causing all of them to grimace in disgust.

“I’m. . .” Jack started.

“Don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’ again,” Matty snapped.  “Go home before the rest of us get sick.”

“But. . .”

“Jack, I don’t know where you come from, but around here it’s largely considered impolite to infect your co-workers with whatever it is you’re incubating.  For the last time, GO HOME.”

Jack let out a long-suffering sigh, spoiled by another coughing fit.  He heaved himself to his feet, Mac’s jacket falling on the floor.  Jack blinked at it, trying to figure out where it came from.  Okay, maybe he was sicker than he thought.  “Just don’t go saving the world without me,” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure all the terrorists will be happy to stop what they’re doing until you’re over your cold,” Matty snarked.  Jack opened his mouth, but Matty cut him off.  “What are you still doing here?  Go, already.”

“Right.”  Jack aimed himself towards the door but overbalanced, landing in a heap at Matty’s feet.  He looked up at her, bewildered as to how he’d ended up on the floor.  “I think I might need a little help.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”  Matty aimed a finger at Mac.  “Get him out of here, will you?  And don’t come back until he’s better, either of you!”

“Right.”  Mac moved behind Jack, sliding his hands under the bigger man’s arms and hoisting him to his feet.  Jack wobbled a little but remained standing.  Mac slung one of Jack’s arms around his shoulders.  “Let’s go, buddy.”

Jack obediently shuffled towards the door, but he wasn’t much help; Mac ended up bearing most of his weight.  “Are you going to make me soup?” Jack asked.

“No,” Mac said, “but I bet if you ask nicely, Bozer will.”

Jack turned imploring eyes on Bozer, the effect significantly lessened by the fact that they were red and watery.  “Pretty please?”

“It just so happens I have some in the freezer,” Bozer said.  “Mac just has to heat it up for you.”

Jack perked up.  “With noodles?”

“But of course,” Bozer said.  “You can’t have chicken soup without noodles.”

Mac took another step forward, forcing Jack to follow.  “Come on.  The sooner we get home, the sooner you can have that soup.”

That seemed to be sufficient motivation for Jack, and he allowed Mac to drag him down to the car.  Jack flopped into the seat and immediately dozed off, his breaths making rattling sounds that concerned Mac.  Mac looked fondly at his partner.  Jack really was adorable, even sick.  Maybe especially sick.  Mac fastened Jack’s seatbelt and couldn’t resist planting a light kiss on Jack’s forehead, something he’d never dare if Jack were conscious.  Best not to let Jack know just how deep Mac’s feelings ran.

Mac got into the driver’s seat and started the car, pointing it towards his house.  There was no way he’d let Jack go back to his dingy apartment—that was no place for a sick man.  Mac’s place was much better—lighter and more spacious, with a decent, well-stocked kitchen (thanks to Bozer—there were definite benefits to having a chef for a roommate) and a full medicine cabinet.  Jack would be much more comfortable there.  Besides, Mac had to admit, if only to himself, imagining Jack snuggled in his bed gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling.  He’d never get the chance otherwise, so he might as well take advantage while he could.

Mac pulled into his driveway and cut the engine.  “Okay, buddy, let’s get you into the house.”  Jack snorted, but otherwise didn’t stir.  Mac went around to the passenger side, unfastened Jack’s seatbelt, and nudged him.  “Come on, Jack, you gotta wake up.  I need some help here.  It’s not like I can carry you.”

Jack opened his eyes and blinked at Mac.  “Where are we?”

“Home.”

Jack looked around, taking in his surroundings.  “Not my home.”

Oh, how Mac wished.  “No, buddy, my home.  You’re staying here until you’re better.”

Mac expected Jack to protest, but the older man just nodded and heaved himself out of the car, bracing himself with one hand on the top of the door.  Mac moved to help him, but Jack waved him off.  “I got it.”

“You sure?” Mac asked anxiously.

Jack made it to his feet and managed to take a few steps without wobbling (much).  “Yeah, I got it.”

“Okay.”  Mac led the way to the house, unlocking the door and holding it open for Jack.  Jack entered and staggered towards the couch.  Mac stopped him.  “Not there.”

“Where, then?”

“My room.”  Jack looked surprised, and Mac was afraid he’d overstepped his bound.  “I mean, I just think you’d be more comfortable in there.”

Jack hesitated.  “I don’t want to put you out.”

“It’s no problem.  I’ll just sleep on the couch.  I’ve slept worse places.”  What Mac really wanted was to curl up next to Jack, but that wasn’t even in the realm of possibility.  He’d make do on the couch.

“If you’re sure. . .” Jack said, moving towards Mac’s room.

Mac put away his keys and jacket and followed, only to find Jack sprawled on his back on the bed, legs hanging off the end, snoring loudly, deep, wet snores that once again worried Mac.  He’d definitely have to get some medicine into Jack, but first things first.  Mac nudged at Jack’s legs.  “Come on, let’s at least get your pants off and get you under the covers.”

“M’kay,” Jack said sleepily.  He sat up, eyes still mostly closed, but didn’t make any other move to help Mac.  Mac sighed and helped Jack undress, first having Jack raise his arms so Mac could lift off his t-shirt, then kneeling at Jack’s feet to take off his shoes and pants.  It was intimate, but not sexual.  Mac savored the closeness and wished he could experience it more often.

Mac threw back the covers.  “Okay, Jack, under you go.”

Jack obediently scooted up on the bed and let Mac tuck him in.  Mac tenderly arranged the covers over his partner, smoothing them down to make sure Jack was comfortable.  Mac resisted the temptation to kiss Jack on the forehead again—it wouldn’t do with Jack conscious.  Mac turned to go, but Jack stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “Stay.”

Mac hesitated, unsure.  He really wanted to, but he wasn’t sure Jack meant it the way Mac hoped he did.  “Fine,” Mac said, eventually.  He kicked off his shoes and nudged Jack over, settling with his back against the headboard.

Jack immediately put his head in Mac’s lap.  “Mmm.  You’re comfy for a skinny guy,” he mumbled.

Mac chuckled.  “Thanks, I think.”  He gave in to temptation and ran his hands through Jack’s Mohawk.  He wished the older man had more hair so Mac could really enjoy the experience, but he’d take what he could get.  Jack seemed to enjoy it, humming contentedly and snuggling deeper into Mac’s lap.  “All set there?”

“Mmm-hmm.” 

“Good.  Get some sleep.”

“Okay.  Love you, Mac.”

Mac froze mid-stroke.  Jack didn’t just say that.  Sure, they said it to each other from time to time, but never unguarded like this.  It made Mac hope that maybe, just maybe, Jack returned his feelings.  He resumed stroking Jack’s hair.  “Love you, too, Jack.”

A snore was his only response.


End file.
